UnDramione
by Aussie-Muggle
Summary: Everything is set for a cliche Malfoy/Hermione... except they still hate each other. Let the masquerade begin
1. The Idiocy of Eddie Poppytrock

**Chapter One**: The Idiocy of Eddie Poppytrock

Minerva McGonagall was sorely temped to hit the man in front of her over the head repeatedly with her broomstick if he didn't… shut up.

She had never been one to suffer fools lightly and everything about Eddie Poppytrock from his name, to his ridiculous yellow robes, to his rather squeaky voice was foolish. She had no problems with people being happy that Lord Voldemort was finally gone but for the second time in sixteen years people seemed to have traded in their common sense for cheerfulness.

Poppytrock, a new member of the school board and a high ranking Ministry official, was absolutely delighted that Umbridge had been thrown into Azkaban and that Kingsley had taken over. He was so grateful to the Hogwarts students that had fought off the Death Eaters that he, Heaven help them all, had decided to take a greater interest in Hogwarts' affairs.

"Dancing lessons?" repeated McGonagall, barely veiling her disgust. "You want me to introduce dancing lessons?"

Poppytrock nodded his head eagerly. McGonagall tried not to fantasise about turning into a cat and pouncing on his shiny bald head. She liked dancing when the occasion called for it but now hardly seemed the time for it.

"It'll be a great way to boost the students' moral," said Poppytrock brightly. "I do love dancing."

Poppytrock was either too blissful to notice McGonagall's death glare or too stupid to recognise it. Maybe both.

"We're missing a wall, the Ravenclaws don't have anywhere to sleep…" McGonagall took a breath to calm herself, "… and you want me to waste money on hiring an imbecile… to teach my emotionally scarred students… the quickstep?"

Poppytrock frowned, as though he was just beginning to suspect McGonagall's unwillingness, and nodded. The some of the portraits behind them were exchanging frustrated glances. Professor Dippet actually rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore however, was reading a blue book with 'Knitting for Beginners' written on the cover with loopy, gold letters. He didn't appear to be paying attention. After all, he had to endure fifty years of playing politics. Now it was McGonagall's turn.

The recently deceased Professor Snape gave Dumbledore a mildly disgusted look before speaking. He had to put up with Death Eater teachers during his time as Headmaster but somehow the Carrows seemed easier to handle than this idiot. Snape had a little less tact than McGonagall did.

"Sounds like a fantastic idea," sneered the portrait. "Why not throw a masked ball while we're at it?"

Poppytrock missed the mocking tone in Snape's voice. His eyes lit up and he beamed at the greasy haired portrait.

"Brilliant!" cried Poppytrock. "Why didn't I think of that?"

As Poppytrock began to rant excitedly about a masked ball, McGonagall slowly turned to glare at her former colleague's portrait. Snape looked uncharacteristically mortified.

"I was being sarcastic," he mumbled apologetically to McGonagall.

When she was finished glaring at Snape, McGonagall decided to try patience. She forced her voice to remain steady and rational.

"Look... Mr. Poppytrock-"

"Call me Eddie, please."

If McGonagall's mouth could become any thinner it would have. Patience, be damned… it will be a miracle if this man gets out of this office alive.

"Mr. Poppytrock," said McGonagall loudly. "I have no intention whatsoever... of introducing dancing lessons. It's completely impractical and the students will hate me for it."

Poppytrock's face fell.

"But... that's the beauty of it!" he cried. "Something in their lives that isn't revolving around school work or fighting dark wizards-"

"That is what Quidditch is for! Now if you'd excuse me-"

"But… Quidditch does nothing but create tension between houses!"

Poppytrock then went on another long rant about how dancing could bring the houses together. It was a speech worthy of Delores Umbridge, though perhaps lacking the subtle threats and a bit more on the boring side. McGonagall buried her head in her hands. Make it stop…please, make it stop. After ten minutes of waffling, she caved.

"Fine, I'll bring in the dancing lessons!" she snapped.

"And the masked ball?" said Poppytrock eagerly.

McGonagall never thought much of premonitions but she had a vision of the student's horrified faces. To Snape's surprise, her thin mouth curled in a smile.

"On one condition," she said slowly. "The students have to organise it."

Poppytrock beamed and shook McGonagall's hand while she tried to hide her smirk. There's no way that ball is going ahead… teenagers cannot organise. The girls will spend too much time giggling about the whole thing and the boys will be trying to run away.

"Well, I'm off then," said Poppytrock brightly.

"Take care," said McGonagall, trying not to seem too happy to see him gone.

Before McGonagall could let out a sigh of relief, Poppytrock stopped in his tracks and turned around. McGonagall's heart nearly stopped then and there. Dear Merlin… what now?

"I noticed you've expelled Draco Malfoy," he said.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

"Yes…"

Poppytrock bit his lip. It suddenly occurred to him that McGonagall might not be happy

"I don't mean to…question your authority… but I was thinking… his father has been awfully helpful-"

McGonagall rose to her feet and Poppytrock stopped talking abruptly.

"I don't care how much money Lucius Malfoy is throwing at the Ministry," said McGonagall sharply. "I'm not letting that boy…or his father…with a hundred yards of this school!"

Judging from the more or less petrified expression on his face, it had finally dawned on Poppytrock how angry McGonagall was.

"Well, his family has really turned over a new leaf… and he was a prefect after all," he mumbled. "I thought that maybe he could be the new Head Boy?"

It took McGonagall a moment to process what Poppytrock had said.

"Head…_Head Boy_?" she thundered. "He plotted the murder of Albus Dumbledore!"

"Technically, I was the one responsible for that," said Snape quietly.

"Shut up, Severus!"

Poppytrock was beginning to think that McGonagall could do with some dancing lessons herself. She needed something to lighten her up a bit.

"Professor-" he began.

"No, Mr. Poppytrock," said McGonagall in the same threatening tone she used with students who tried to negotiate deadlines. "That boy has no place in this castle and he never will."

Dumbledore suddenly put his book down.

"Minerva," he said sternly.

McGonagall closed her eyes in exasperation. She knew exactly what she was going to hear.

"We all deserve a second chance," said Dumbledore softly.

McGonagall hated it when Dumbledore used that on her. She hadn't exactly been a good student when she was younger but that was fifty years ago for Merlin's sake. She sighed.

"Fine," she muttered. "Mr. Poppytrock, please show yourself out. I have to inform Draco Malfoy of his new position."

At this, Poppytrock practically fled McGonagall's office to find a place a little more cheerful and a little less hostile. McGonagall shot Dumbledore a glare.

"Thank you for that, Albus," she snarled. "You were a great help."

Dumbledore looked at her from over his book and his half-moon glasses with a slight smile on his face.

"You're welcome, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "I've always been quite fond of dancing, myself."

McGonagall didn't think the portrait did Albus' twinkling blue eyes justice but suddenly they were just as infuriating as she remembered. She scowled at her old friend's portrait and took out her quill.

"I'm going to regret this," muttered McGonagall, pulling out a roll of parchment. "Poor Miss Granger…"

"Poor Miss Granger indeed," scoffed Snape. "It's Draco who should be worried."


	2. The First Excruciating Day Back

**Chapter Two:**The First Excruciating Day Back

Hermione Granger hugged Ron Weasley tightly around the neck and kissed him on the cheek. Usually Ron would have protested against this kind of behaviour in a crowded train station but the people around them (from the wizarding world at least) were too busy gawking at Harry to pay them much attention. Harry was trying and failing to hide behind a rather amused Ginny. She was a few inches too short for his tactic to work. Hermione tried not to laugh at the sight as she spoke to him.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to come, Harry?" asked Hermione gently. "I'm sure McGonagall will understand if you change your mind."

Hermione knew that Harry would miss Hogwarts far more than Ron would. It was his home. Harry grimaced and gave up trying to hide.

"Nah… It would be strange... after everything that's happened," he said, giving an awkward wave to the staring witches and wizards, "and Kingsley said I won't need NEWTs."

Harry had been very quiet lately. It suddenly occurred to Hermione that it might get worse if he came back to Hogwarts. He forced a smile.

"Apparently doing in the greatest dark wizard for a century is enough to get you into the Auror training program," said Harry lightly.

"I should bloody well hope so," said Ron with a grin.

Ron turned to Hermione again and bit his lip.

"You sure you'll be alright on your own, Hermione?" he mumbled. "I could write to McGonagall and get on the train with you."

Hermione gave him another kiss for good measure. She was definitely going to miss going through his slightly-below-par homework but she knew he had to stay behind. George hadn't spoken in months and the Weasleys had decided that one of them should stay and help him in the shop. Percy, who was anxious to redeem himself, and Ron, who had already missed a year of school and didn't have a job to worry about, had volunteered

He had also reasoned that if Percy decided to work at Weasley Wizard Wheeze instead, either Percy or George would end up going mad and strangling a poor, unsuspecting customer.

"I'll be fine, Ron," said Hermione with a smile. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"And she won't be alone," said Ginny fiercely. "Merlin help any Slytherin who tries to give her a hard time."

Their laughter was cut short by the sound of the train's whistle. Hermione's shoulders sagged.

"We should go," she muttered.

"See you soon, Hermione," said Ron. "I promise you I'll write but don't expect a whole roll of parchment or anything.... you know me."

Giving Harry and Ron one last wave, Ginny and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express just as it left the platform. Ginny was trying to find Neville and Luna. She spotted them entering a compartment in the next carriage.

"You coming?" asked Ginny.

"No… I have to meet the other prefects first," said Hermione.

She showed Ginny the letter she had received from McGonagall.

_Dear Miss Granger,_ it read. __

I am pleased to inform you that due to your outstanding contribution to this school you have been chosen to represent your fellow students as Head Girl. Though this is an enormous responsibility I have no doubt that you shall do well.

Please report to the prefect's carriage upon boarding the Hogwarts Express for a brief meeting. You and your counterpart should introduce yourselves to the new prefects and inform them of their obligations.

Yours sincerely,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

"Who do you reckon the Head boy is?" asked Ginny.

Hermione frowned.

"Ernie Macmillan, perhaps? I'm not sure…"

Hermione said goodbye to Ginny and headed towards the prefect's carriage. She paused and took a deep breath before entering.

Most of the prefects had already arrived. Some of the new prefects looked rather nervous. Hermione couldn't blame them after all the commotion they went through last year. Only one of the new prefects looked completely unconcerned. She was a short, dark haired girl wearing red nail polish. She spared Hermione a glance and continued to read a tattered copy of _Jane Eyre_. Hermione thought that she had seen her sitting on the Slytherin table but she couldn't recall what her name was.

And then Hermione noticed the sulky looking, blonde boy sitting next to her. Her eyes widened in horror.

"_You?_" choked Hermione.

There was silence, dead silence, for about thirty seconds. Ernie Macmillan shuffled nervously and the prefect who had been reading put down her book and raised her eyebrows with interest. Draco Malfoy forced a grin.

"Err… surprise?" he said with forced cheerfulness.

"What in _Merlin's name_ are you doing here?" shrieked Hermione.

Malfoy looked almost as pleased to be there as Hermione was to see him.

"I'll give you three guesses," he said.

When Hermione said nothing, he pulled out something from his robes that looked suspiciously like a brand new 'Head Boy' badge. Hermione stared at it for another thirty seconds before letting out a rather hysterical laugh.

"No…" she said loudly. "No… there is _no way_ McGonagall…"

Hermione trailed off, unable to continue without the use of coarse language.

"Made a Death Eater like me Head Boy?" supplied Malfoy dully.

"I was going to phrase that a little more tactfully," said Hermione coldly, "but if you wish to put it that way… _fine_."

Malfoy's mouth twitched.

"I'm surprised they didn't make The-Boy-Who-Kicked-The-Dark-Lord's-Arse Head Boy," he said bitterly.

"He's not coming back so you can forget about bullying him all year!" snapped Hermione.

The dark haired girl sitting next to Malfoy let out an impatient sigh, apparently tired of the bickering.

"Can we get on with this or are you two having a lover's spat?" she asked dryly.

Ernie gagged. The other prefects were either trying not to laugh or shuddering. Hermione and Malfoy turned pale and both glared at the obnoxious new comer. Malfoy actually got to his feet.

"A…_what_?" shouted they in unison.

She was completely unfazed by their anger. She only laughed.

"It was a joke," said the dark haired girl. "There's no need to get so defensive."

Malfoy slowly sat back down. Hermione took a seat as far away from him as possible. The girl grinned.

"Unless you're both hiding something," she muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Hermione turned scarlet.

"Let's start with introductions then shall we?" she said in a high-pitched, hurried tone. "I'm Hermione Granger-"

Malfoy chuckled darkly.

"They know who you are, Granger," he drawled. "You helped save the wizarding world, remember?"

Hermione scowled.

"And the _annoying little boy_ who so rudely interrupted me was Draco Malfoy," she snarled.

It was Malfoy's turn to scowl.

"Let me guess… you're both the best of friends?" said the dark haired girl, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Before either of them could come up with a scathing remark, the door was pushed open.  
Pansy Parkinson, complete with her usual stuck up, girly-girl, horsy facial expression, had just entered the compartment. Hermione resisted the urge to hit her head repeatedly with a heavy textbook.

"Sorry, I'm late," said Pansy smugly. "I had other things I needed to see to."

She smiled viciously at Hermione.

"Oh…so _you're_ the new head girl," she sneered. "I thought they'd pick someone else."

"Sit down, Pansy," said Hermione through clenched teeth. "Shall we continue with the introductions?"

Pansy took the other seat next to Malfoy. The dark haired girl raised her hand.

"I'm Astoria Greengrass," she said. "The new Slytherin prefect."

"I don't see you around very often," said Malfoy with a frown.

"That's because you spend all your spare time snogging my annoying big sister's irritating best friend," said Astoria with smirk, "and I do my best to stay as far away from my annoying big sister and her irritating friends as humanly possible."

It took Pansy about ten seconds to realise that she had been insulted. She glowered at Astoria, who smiled back at with deceptive sweetness. Malfoy glared at Astoria for the second time in so many minutes. Hermione buried her face in her hands. This was going to be a long day.


End file.
